


A Love Drunk State of Mind

by taylorswift



Category: Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF, RPF - Fandom
Genre: Bars and Pubs, Can't keep their hands off each other, Drunkenness, F/M, I wrote this at 4 am literally, Karaoke, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-05 00:53:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3098933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylorswift/pseuds/taylorswift
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When you stick the cast of The Avengers in a karaoke bar, things are bound to happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Love Drunk State of Mind

**Author's Note:**

> Request from Tumblr, thank you my little darling Claire.

For some reason, Evans likes to assume the position of our events coordinator and drag us out places when we don’t need to be out in public. It’s very simple as to why we don’t need to go out, and it’s not just because we tend to draw a crowd. Downey always causes a scene—when you’re Robert Downey Jr., apparently you have the right to do so—Jeremy likes to assist in the efforts, Hemsworth just wants to know where the drinks are, Mark, Tom and Evans are usually off doing their own shenanigans, and then you have Cobie and I, ready to bash our heads in.

Tonight, Evans has forced the same directions onto all of our phones and corralled us to some dingy little bar outside of god knows where, complete with dim lighting and scattered people everywhere. It’s like the place is deserted; I wouldn’t be too stunned if tumbleweeds started blowing past. Leave it to Evans to find the most obscure, hole-in-the-wall place that there ever was.

Cobie sits next to me, drumming her fingers on the tabletop as she sets her bottle back down. “God,” she sighs. “I don’t understand their desire to go to a different bar every night, there’s virtually no difference in any of them. They all carry the same drinks, have the same game playing; I mean, you can’t even tell if the interior decoration’s any different since they all have minimal lighting.”

I laugh bitterly, running my fingers around in a circle. “They’re essentially children,” I tell her. “They don’t care about where they get the drink.”

“It just can’t be the same place they got it last night,” she adds on, and I nod, bringing my own bottle up to my mouth.

I look up, seeing all of our boys in a line on the bar stools as they do shot after shot, yelling about something. Cobie and I have picked a table sitting off to the side, desperate not to draw attention to ourselves. This is typically how these nights go, whenever we get together for drinks. Cobie and I try not go get into the way of their antics, while they go bananas.

Jeremy swivels around on his stool, shooting me an over-exaggerated wink and I quickly look down. If there’s anything I don’t want to draw attention to, it’s the flirting between us. I like the secretiveness of it all; it’s almost like we’re teenagers again, sneaking around, and anything that makes me feel young again is something I back one-hundred percent. It’s just nice to have it between us and no one else. I’ve had my fill of high-profile romance, enough to last a lifetime.

Cobie seems to catch on my near-immediate shut down. “Something wrong?” she asks.

I glance back up, shaking my head. “Oh, no,” I tell her. “It’s nothing.”

“Ladies!” Hemsworth booms from his bar stool, spinning around and nearly falling off in his drunken state. It’s evident that the only ladies he could be addressing are me and Cobie, but we do our best to act as though we’ve never heard a thing.

“Scarls,” Jeremy says as he hops down from his bar stool, strutting over to where I’m currently trying to shy away from them, a mischievous glint in those blue-green eyes of his. He throws an arm around my shoulder awkwardly, smiling down at me. “We’re talking to you two, you know.”

“Really?” I ask, feigning nonchalance. “I would have assumed you were talking about yourselves.”

Evans glares at me like I’ve lost my mind. “We’re men, Scarly.”

“I’m sure that could be debatable,” Cobie snickers.

“Whatever,” Downey says, waving his hands around, as if he’s attempting to direct traffic. “Now get off your cute little asses and come with us, it’s karaoke night.” Jeremy’s arm weighs close to a thousand pounds as my eyes go wide.

“I’m sorry,” I stammer out in disbelief. “I could have sworn you just said that it was karaoke night.”

Evans nods excitedly, the desire to throw my head back and groan growing stronger by the second—a karaoke bar?  _Really_? “Of course!” he confirms. “And since we know how you operate, you and Renner can wow us with a duet.”

Jeremy shakes my shoulders a little bit out of excitement, most likely, maybe with a little of the alcohol’s effects kicking in. “Better pick a good song, sweetheart, we need to send these losers running,” he laughs.

Downey and Evans begin to rush Cobie out of her seat, and it’s pretty clear that Jeremy’s attempting to pick me up and carry me. “I can walk,” I inform him.

“I know that, sweetheart,” he replies, just as cheekily. He moves his arm from around me as I stand up, draping it back around my shoulders the moment I’ve kicked the chair somewhat underneath the table.

“Why is your arm around me?” I whisper in a low voice, making sure all of the others in their half-drunken state of glory are a good distance away.

He shrugs, fingers tapping on my shoulder cap as he lifts his hand a bit. “Didn’t think you minded it that much, hot sauce; you sure as hell didn’t mind my hands on you last ni—“

“Not here,” I hiss. He rolls his eyes, mimicking me as we begin to slowly trudge behind our eager cast mates, the god of thunder already requesting a mic.

“Yeah yeah,  _dirty little secret_ , got that much. There’s no one around to send in a picture to TMZ for miles, love. Downey might be stupid but he’s not that stupid.”

I shrug, biting down on my lip. It’s not that I don’t like the physical contact aspect when it comes to Jeremy, because that’s farthest from the truth. If I had it my way, he’d never get his hands off of me, and I’m sure he’d like to say the same. But out here, when no one knows about us and frankly, I’d like to keep it that way; touchy-feely is off limits. Jeremy sober knows this and is in complete agreement with it, or so it appears. Drunken Jeremy, not so much.

The stage they have set up for karaoke is of course, abandoned, little tables designed for two scattered around. Hemsworth is already on stage, trying to figure out how to work the mic. “Twenty bucks says that this is going to be a disaster,” I say to Jeremy.

“Our performance will be beautiful,” he replies, giving a small shrug.

I turn to look at him, a quizzical expression on my face. “Yeah, you want to tell me how that came about?” He doesn’t respond, just shoots me a dazzling smile as he pulls out a chair for me.

Cobie looks beyond amused with this as I sit down. “How did you manage to get Renner as your personal servant?” she chuckles.

“Burgers and a beer,” I respond.

There’s a loud screeching noise as Hemsworth fiddles with the mic, tapping it a few times—rookie mistake, of course. The pitiful excuse of a spotlight is shining on him, and already I can see the train wreck from here. “Hey Hemmy!” Downey shouts. “Why don’t you show us some of those winning dance moves from Dancing with the Stars?” Hemsworth looks up from his microphone difficulties, responding with a loving gesture and scowl on his face.

Jeremy, who I don’t realize has taken the seat in my blind spot, causes me to nearly fall out of my chair when his voice pipes up loudly in my ear. “Wow me, Thor, and I’ll spare you a dollar!”

I shake my head, the hints of a smile beginning to play on my lips. “You’re going to owe me twenty before the night ends,” I remind, leaning my head back and finding it resting against some part of his chest. He looks down at me, smirking.

“Come on sweetheart, you know I can’t forget about you.”

After some preparations—and almost breaking the karaoke machine itself—Hemsworth begins his rousing rendition of a Miley Cyrus song, a clear jab at his brother’s girlfriend. “So I put my  _hands up, they’re playing my song!_ ” he sings, horribly off key as he stumbles around on stage. I lean back in my seat, taking a swig of my drink as I chuckle along to his singing. It’s not much of a secret that everyone in our cast is musically inclined, but judging by this particular performance, it’s enough to convince people otherwise.

Tom and Evans take the stage next, where they do a gorgeous duet of a Taylor Swift song that I vaguely remember on the radio years ago.  _It must be throwback night_ , I think to myself as Tom drops to his knees and begins begging for Evans, the Juliet in this song to marry him. I’m distracted throughout most of their performance, due to the fact that Jeremy’s hands keep slipping through the holes in the chair and around my waist from behind. He’s dicey, that one.

After the two of those buffoons take their seats, Downey looks around our small little circle of people. “Who’s our next brave pair to go up and sing?” I begin to glance around, hoping that Ruffalo will grab Downey and yank him up on that stage by the ear, but my dreams are crushed.

“We’re going,” Jeremy announces, the smirk on his face wide as the freeway as he stands up. I don’t realize that he’s standing there idly because he’s waiting on me until Cobie clears her throat and shakes me out of whatever rabbit hole I’d spiraled down.

“Oh!” I finally say, setting my drink down on the table as I get up from my seat. Laughter erupts from several of my cast mates, and my cheeks tinge slightly as we weave through the tables and chairs. Jeremy ushers me along ahead of him, his hands completely obvious as they rest on my hips. “What song are we doing, karaoke king?”

“I figured I’d let you choose it, sweetheart,” he shrugs. “After all, we have to save this show somehow.”

I chuckle, stepping up on the end of the stage where the karaoke machine is. There’s a list of songs available, and I begin to desperately flip through the pages for a song that I at least know the words to. My old-fashioned tastes mean that every song in this book will be one that I’ve never heard before.  _God, this just might go worse than Hemsworth’s_ , I think nervously to myself. My eye then catches the name of a song that I at least know, and I stop my search there.

Plugging in the name of the song to the machine, I saunter over to where Jeremy’s fiddling with the microphones on the stand. “Did you pick something good?” he asks me.

I smile. “We’ve got this in the bag.”

I gesture for him to take the first verse as the music starts, and he shoots me one last wink before he opens his mouth. “Some folks like to get away, take a holiday from the neighborhood…” he sings, and I feel my jaw drop straight down to the floor. Chances are, if I hadn’t had such a tight grip on the mic stand, my knees would have buckled. I’ve heard him sing before, but I’ve never heard him  _sing_ , and goddamn, could I listen to that voice every minute of every day. My knees are threatening to give in as he looks over and sings the next few lines, eyes never breaking contact with mine. If I know anything at all, it’s that I have to be staring at him like he’s an alien, judging the playful smirk on his face.

“Hop a flight to Miami Beach, or to Hollywood; but I’m taking a Greyhound on the Hudson River Line…I’m in a New York state of mind.” Downey and Evans begin to wolf whistle as I pick up the mic, waiting for my cue to sing. God, Renner and that damn sultry,  _angelic_  voice of his has rendered me speechless. It’ll be a miracle if I even utter the first word out.

“I’ve seen all the movie stars in their fancy cars and their limousines,” I start off nervously, Jeremy’s eager eyes ravaging over me as he waits for more.  _Focus on him,_ something inside me prompts.  _Sing it to him._ “Been high in the Rockies under the evergreens, but I know what I’m needing and I don’t want to waste more time, I’m in a New York state of mind.”

We move through the song without eye contact wavering once, me pretending to forget my lines so he’ll jump in and sing them. It’s a rather petty thing to do, but I can’t help myself. His voice, the somewhat-drunken-but-mostly-amused gleam in his eye, everything about him is irresistible and this song isn’t helping it any. We reach the last line, and like the stars have all aligned and he’s trying to get me to drop my skirt right here in front of everyone, he switches it around on me and we end up harmonizing, perfectly of course. “I’m just taking a Greyhound on the Hudson River Line, ‘cause I’m in a New York state of mind.” I fade out quickly, in order to hear the glorious note he was holding out, my stomach fluttering and knees threatening to give way.

The song ends and the others begin hollering loudly as their form of applause, as I find myself stumbling forward into his unsuspecting arms for a hug. “Bathroom,” I whisper hoarsely in his ear, lips brushing over his earlobe. “Now.”

When I pull away, he’s got sin scribbled all over his lips in a crooked smile.

I meet Jeremy in the men’s bathroom in the middle of Downey and Ruffalo’s magnificent take on Call Me Maybe, Mark looking dreadfully uncomfortable as Rob serenades him. The minute I do a double take and make sure no one’s looking in my direction and the door swings open, his hands grab me and pin me against the wall, next to the paper towels and the sink.

“God,” I moan in between fiery kisses that taste like whiskey, my fingers knotting in his hair roughly. “Where…in the  _hell_ …did you learn…to sing like that?”

He laughs against my lips. “My mouth is good for more than just one thing, sweetheart,” he mutters.

“Sing to me every night of my life.”

“That can be arranged,” Jeremy smirks, his mouth trailing kisses down my jaw line. “You gonna let me in that bed of yours every night, make you  _sing_  my name?”

“As long as you sing to me, I’ll walk around naked all day.”

“Deal,” he grunts, his hands running over the curve of my ass as he hoists me up. My legs tangle themselves around his waist like a vise as he sits me up on the edge of the sink, kissing me so hard that if my eyes were open, they’d be rolled in the back of my head. It’s just us there in that bathroom, our own little game of seven minutes of heaven as we kiss and come so close to fucking there on that bathroom counter before we have to break apart and hold off on the fun until we get back to my place, all in the name of not being caught.

A few years later, when I’m being asked what my favorite karaoke song to sing is, the first one that comes to mind is the one that ends up slipping out of my mouth without any extra thought. It’s how I realize that I do still love him, even if the time for it has come and gone.


End file.
